The Jera Merkstave: Time, Rewritten
by Jam-jackson
Summary: Hermione , at the end of her life, is working with an famous ancient artifact. When she finds herself thrown back in time she purposefully makes two changes, then begins to live the normal wizarding childhood she never had. But Fate won't leave her alon
1. Chapter 1

Hermione Weasley was thankful for the charms on the chair at her desk as she stretched. The arthritis in her bones was generally kept at bay with a potion, but sitting in her office in the Department of Mysteries for hours on end was enough to make her bones start aching again. But Hermione didn't get up to stretch further--she was too involved in the project.

A few months after Ron's death Hermione had left her retirement to do a special project for the Department of Mysteries. They had come to her for her runes expertise, and so she had been deciphering runes for the past year in this job. The latest batch of ancient artifacts were particularly intriguing.

Hermione picked up one of the artifacts that she hadn't started on and started to note the commonly known runes that were visible on it. The rune for 'time' was repeated a number of times. 'Love', 'family' and 'youth' were also prominent ones. As Hermione fell into the groove of deciphering runes her mind started to wander, sparked by those four runes.

Memories of her motherhood came to mind, back when Rose and Hugo were children, instead of the grandparents they themselves were now. Hermione's mind drifted even farther back, to the early years of her marriage, when she and Ron fought as much as they got along. She smiled softly at that. The year and more since Ron had died had been long, and many days she found that she missed the arguments the most. There was no one she could argue with like Ron--Harry, Ginny and many other friends had been known to say that after the defeat of Voldemort, the pair had sometimes argued simply to have an argument.

Her thoughts slipped farther back, to her school days. From the first train ride to the defeat of Voldemort on Hogwarts' front lawn--she reviewed her schooldays with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. She also longed for the impossible—a youth where she had been allowed to be a youth. She loved Harry dearly, but being the best friend to the Boy-Who-Lived did not lend itself to a normal youth.

Hermione's thoughts started to become more and more scattered; she was writing down runes less and less frequently, and without noticing it she started to nod off. Her last thoughts were that it would have been wonderful to have a normal wizarding childhood.

XxXxX

Hermione woke slowly, and in confusion. She should have woken up sitting up, or at most leaning on her desk, holding onto the artifact that she'd been studying. Instead she was laying on her back, looking up at red velvet, holding onto the artifact that she'd been studying. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Hermione realized where she was—the Gryffindor Girl's dormitory, and therefore dreaming.

Reassured that it was just a dream she decided that there was no harm in her wandering the hallowed halls of her youth. Walking down the stairs she was surprised to see that there was no fire in the grate in the common room, and after she left the common room she noticed that The Fat Lady wasn't in her portrait. Overall her dream of Hogwarts wasn't shaping up to be the cheerful reminiscence that she'd expected.

She continued to wander the hallways, passing classrooms that had held lessons and clubs and three headed dogs. She passed portraits that waved and statues that guarded secret passages. She wandered until she finally came across someone.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in surprise.

"Just looking around," Hermione said blithely, "I'm surprised you're here, out of everyone who could be. What are you doing here?"

"Some, ah, gardening. I don't believe we've met before, Miss--?"

Hermione looked down at herself, something she hadn't taken the time to do. She was back in her 11-year-old body, dressed in the unadorned Hogwarts uniform that first years wore prior to sorting.

"Miss? Well, I guess I am."

He chortled at this, "You expected to be a Mr?"

"Oh no," Hermione explained, "I've just been a Mrs. For so long that being a Miss came as a surprise. I'm Hermione Granger, Headmaster."

"That's odd, there are no children with that name who were sent letters this year."

Confused by the odd dream Hermione decided it was time for her to get some answers of her own, "And what year is it?"

Dumbledore looked at her oddly before answering, "It's 1971 child."

"Oh," Hermione said, shifting the information through her head. "So that's why you said you were gardening. You're planting the Whomping Willow for Remus Lupin."

To say that Dumbledore looked gobsmacked would not give his expression descriptive justice.

"How do you know that?" he whispered, paling.

"I think Remus told me while we were at Grimmauld Place."

"Grimmauld Place, the Black Family residence?" Dumbledore asked. "Child how have I never heard of you before, and yet you know things you shouldn't and have been places that you couldn't have been? For that matter, how are you here, now? And what's that you're holding?"

Hermione looked down at the artifact that she was still clutching, "Oh, this. I was deciphering the runes on it when I fell asleep."

The Headmaster looked a bit bemused at the child telling him that she knew runes. "And which ones did you identify?" he said, his tone perhaps just a bit patronising.

"Time, love, youth, family, desire, dreams, sleep, trigger... I don't remember seeing sleep or trigger last night."

Dumbledore reached for the artifact, concerned, "Dear Lord, do you know what this is?"

Hermione blinked. "I'm not supposed to know or try to find out what I'm deciphering runes for. I'm just supposed to do the work I'm told to."

"But this is the infamous Jera Runestone! It's famous for the magical aura it has, yet no one's ever been able to figure out what magic it is able to do!"

"Jera?" Hermione asked, peering at the small Runestone.

"See, Jera is on this end," Dumbledore indicated the top, "And Jera Merkstave here," he pointed to the bottom.

Hermione reached for the stone again, her brain whirling. "Jera being the rune for 'year.' It can be interpreted as a peaceful time or a break in stagnation. It symbolizes the hope for peace and happiness. And represents the life cycle and the pattern of time in the universe. Jera Merkstave, in that context, would represent a break in the pattern, a reversal, or a repetition. Oh I can't wait until I wake up to write this down. If those lousy Unspeakables would only _tell_ me what I was looking at, I'd know how to look at it!"

"You seem so certain that this is a dream Miss Granger, why is that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes--she had never quite gotten over being the bushy haired, bucktoothed know-it-all and the dream made it very easy to slip back into the familiar skin--and spoke, a touch of derision in her tone that would have been familiar to Ron. "Because it's impossible to be in 1971."

"You hold the Jera Runestone, and you think that is impossible? Think of what the Jera and the Jera Merkstave told you, and think of that again."

Hermione sat down in the middle of the hallway as the force of that statement hit her. "I'm in 1971? And I'm eleven? That—that's not good."

"Miss Granger, I think we should continue this discussion in my office."

XxXxXxX

Dumbledore found himself following the young girl as she led him unerringly to his office location; yet another piece of evidence that pointed to her either actually being from the future, or being one of Tom Riddle's followers in disguise.

"Parsley," Dumbledore said absently to the gargoyle in front of his office. He made a mental note to change it to rosemary, sage, or thyme later that day once the girl had gone to wherever she needed to go.

Sitting down behind his desk he steepled his fingers and gave the girl one of his patented looks.

He was interrupted before he could say anything by Fawkes.

The firebird flew over to Hermione and started to trill at her happily.

Hermione petted Fawkes with care, speaking to him. "Aren't you pretty today, Fawkes? You're in your prime right now. Oh... I wish I could listen to you sing all day."

Fawkes preened a bit of Hermione's hair before flying back to his perch. Dumbledore had to admit that that interaction alone proved to be in Hermione's favor; Fawkes couldn't stand being near people who were dark, and had never preened anyone but he himself.

"How do I know that you're really from the future and not someone who is coming into the castle to spy?" Dumbledore decided to be frank with the small, intelligent girl.

"Ask me something about yourself that no one could possibly know," Hermione said quietly.

Dumbledore wracked his brains for a question that no one could know, and came to rest upon two. Someone could possibly find the answer to one, but not the other. "What is my biggest fear, and who was my first love?"

Hermione looked at him sadly for a moment before speaking, "Your biggest fear is that you're the one that cast the spell that struck Arianna. Your first love was Gellert Grindlewald."

Dumbledore hissed quietly at her answer. His brother knew about his biggest fear, but not about his love. Dumbledore had kept his sexual preference a close guarded secret. No one outside of Aberforth even knew the first half. The girl appeared to be genuine.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "What are we going to do with you?"

"What do you mean sir?"

"Well, for starters, you're eleven years old. It's 1971. How old are your parents?"

"Thirteen and eleven," Hermione said after a moment.

"Also, you seem much more intelligent than an eleven-year-old. How old were you?"

"Older than you sir," Hermione said with a smile. "And you should know better than to ask a woman her age. Would you dare ask McGonagall how old she is?"

Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh. "I know how old she is, but you're right, if I didn't know I'd never ask. But that doesn't answer the question of what we should do."

"I think when I was working with the Jera Runestone that I was wishing that I had a chance for a normal, peaceful Hogwarts experience. Maybe that's what I've been sent back for?"

"And that's it?" Dumbledore looked skeptical. "Your being here alone changes the course of history. Surely there must be a reason that you were sent back."

Hermione just nodded. "I can think of a few. And I think that by attending Hogwarts I'll be able to accomplish them."

"And where are you to go until then?" Dumbledore asked. After Tom Riddle's experiences in the muggle orphanage he was hesitant to send any child there—even one who was older than himself.

"Can't I just stay here?" Hermione asked, looking hopeful.

"Only the children of Hogwarts staff are allowed to stay at the school when it isn't in session," Dumbledore explained.

"I don't suppose Professor McGonagall's looking to adopt, is she?" Hermione said half-heartedly.

Dumbledore paused. "That's not that bad of an idea. Is there a reason you said McGonagall specifically?"

Hermione looked startled at the idea that something she suggested in jest might actually be possible. "She was my head of house, and I've always looked up to her, we're very similar in many ways."

"Yes," Dumbledore murmured. "That may be the best way."

Snapping his fingers Dumbledore summoned a house elf. "Would you please go to Minerva and ask her to come to an informal meeting in my office?"

"Yes sirs, Mister Dumblydoor," the elf said, bowing before disappearing with a loud pop.

XxXxXxX

Hermione sat in silence thinking on her strange situation while they waited for McGonagall. Even in a world filled with magic it was hard to believe that she had been sent back in time. Of course there was plenty of proof of large time jumps—muggles found human evidence in ancient fossils that dated back to the dinosaurs way too often for the magical world to not acknowledge that there was, or would be, a magical means of jumping in time. But to actually have done so floored her.

Hermione was still trying to wrap her mind around that reality when something else astounding happened: Minerva McGonagall walked into the room.

Only, this wasn't the Minerva McGonagall that she remembered at all. The trouble was the fact that wizards and witches tended to retain their youthfulness for longer than muggles, and Minerva McGonagall had not yet lived through one of Voldemort's wars. She was no great beauty, but she was striking, imposing even. The stern lines that Hermione was used to seeing on her face, instead the sternness was all in the eyes. Her smooth skin was pale, and was set off by her dark hair. Dark hair which, free of the bun Hermione was used to seeing, was as unruly as her own.

"A student Headmaster? You should have said so, I wouldn't have left my hair down!" McGonagall started to pat her hair self consciously.

"I don't mind flyaway hair Professor," Hermione said, indicating her own.

"Yes, but its a matter of respect!"

"Don't worry Professor, I won't lose respect for you because your hair is down," Hermione said with a grin.

"What is this about Headmaster? She's not one of my Gryffindor's, and school's not in session."

"Not a Gryffindor yet, at least. But, more importantly, through some very strange circumstances, an orphan."

Hermione sat quietly as Dumbledore explained the whole situation to McGonagall. "So you're going to be her guardian?" Minerva asked when it was all done.

"Er, no," Dumbledore shook his head, "I'm a bit old to have a daughter show up out of the blue. And in order for there to not be any questions about how she knows so much about magic, she needs to be adopted by someone who could legitimately have had a daughter eleven years ago."

"Well, most of the students who are the right age are already in a relationship and have a child Albus, or else are very publicly single and childless. It'd be very difficult for a grown child to just appear."

"Well, what if she had lived with her Grandfather up until this summer, when he died?" Albus asked delicately.

McGonagall winced at this--her father had just died right at the end of the school year. Then she realized what he meant and she protested with vehemence. "Albus, there's no way! The students would know that I hadn't been pregnant 11 years ago!"

"You know as well as I do that there are charms to hide pregnancy from people."

"But a father, my reputation!"

"You could say that the father was a foreigner and left you, or died. No one would think any less of you, and might actually think more of you Minerva."

"Why me?" Minerva sat down in a chair at last, having stood up the whole time. She was uncharacteristically slouched.

"Look at her Minerva," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "She looks like a younger you with lighter hair. And she acts like you too."

Hermione could only nod, it was true, she'd been compared to McGonagall more times in her life than she cared to count, although she'd never known until now how much she looked like a young McGonagall.

"And you've always wanted a daughter like yourself, Minnie," Dumbledore said softly.

The silence stretched for a few moments before Minerva finally spoke. "How do we do this then? Shouldn't there be some record of her, somewhere?"

"I can take care of that. It'll be easy for me to slip into the Wizengamot and slip some papers into the right file. I'll date them back correctly, and if anyone asks I can say that I put them in there ages ago, but didn't advertise the fact because I was protecting one of my professors. Now let's see, where did I put it..."

Dumbledore rummaged around his desk and finally found a blank envelope that appeared to be prefilled. He set a quill on top of it, pointed his wand and watched it write on its own.

_Hermione McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland_

Hermione found it odd to see her name as Hermione McGonagall, but before that could sink in, she thought of something. "Headmaster, Professor, I don't have anything with me but these clothes, and I have no money with me. I don't want to be a burden..."

"Hermione, I'm your mother now, not a Professor," McGonagall said, although she still used her Professor tone of voice. "You can call me Mother. Or," she hesitated, but gathered up the courage. "Or Mum. And it's a parent's job to take care of a child, and that includes financially."

"Plus," Dumbledore said. "The Jera Runestone has been missing for some time, and there is a large finders fee for it. If you give it to Minerva she can turn it in and receive the fee. Would that make you feel better?"

"It would," Hermione said, nodding. With that Dumbledore shooed the two of them out the door to get better acquainted while he had the House elves communicate with the castle to add a bedroom into the McGonagalls' living quarters. Things were looking interesting for the Headmaster. He knew that there'd be many more conversations with the woman-turned-girl. He couldn't wait to hear about her former future, although he knew that it was already irrevocably changed.

XxXxXxX

The finders fee for the Jera Runestone was high enough that Minerva and Hermione were astounded. Hermione was able to go to Diagon Alley guilt free and get a full set of robes and casual clothes, a trunk, wand, potions set, more books than she and her mother could carry, and an owl she fondly named Pig.

Back at Hogwarts Hermione spent her summer getting to know her new mother, learning about the current wizarding world, exploring the castle and planning to make a certain map a bit ahead of schedule.

Dumbledore and McGonagall were amazed at how much more childlike Hermione grew each day. She remained as intelligent as she ever was, but as she concentreted on learning about 'today' she began to forget about 'tomorrow.' She still knew what the future might hold, but she didn't actively think about it most of the time. By the time September first came around Hermione appeared to be somewhat more mature and intelligent than other witches her age, but no more, and it could easily be explained by the fact that she was the daughter of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

Said Deputy Headmistress was too busy with preparing for the day, so Hermione did not end up going to King's Cross Station to ride the Hogwarts Express. On the train James Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew met and rode together in one compartment. In another compartment Lily Evans and Severus Snape already knew each other and rode together.

Back at Hogwarts Hermione was too excited to sit still and read, so she helped Flitwick to decorate the Great Hall. Had Ron and Harry been able to see this Hermione, they would have remembered Hermione, so young and eager for knowledge. Even though Hermione technically knew the spells Flitwick was using, she acted in a way they would have remembered--so young and eager for knowledge.

When word of the train's arrival reached the castle Hermione went to a small room as instructed and watched through the crack for the group of incoming first years. Hermione slipped into the back of the crowd of first years once they were assembled, and was surprised to see that it was a bit larger than her class in the nineties.

After a few moments of students worriedly discussing how they were sorted, McGonagall arrived to lead them into the Great Hall. Hermione enjoyed watching the faces of the other first years as they saw the ceiling. It was with slight difficulty that she prevented herself from repeating the same thing she had her first time there. Those that saw her only saw a smile that seemed far too old for her age, before the smile turned into nervousness as the Hat began to sing and then as students started to be sorted.

Hermione watched as first Sirius Black, then Lily Evans, and Remus Lupin were sorted into Gryffindor amidst other students. Finally it was her turn.

Her face betraying no emotion, McGonagall called out, "Hermione McGonagall." The murmurs started amongst the seated students immediately. Hermione ignored them and stepped forward to put on the hat.

_What's this? You remember being sorted before, but I've never sorted you._ The Hat thought at her.

_An accident with time travel,_ Hermione thought back.

_I see. Well, you've more than proved that you belong in Gryffindor so—_

_Wait!_ Hermione thought loudly, interupting the Hat before it could yell.

_You don't want Gryffindor?_

_No, I do,_ Hermione reassured, _But I need to ask for a favor._

_A favor child? What could a hat do for you?_

_Sort Peter Pettigrew into Hufflepuff and Severus Snape into Gryffindor._ And with that Hermione started to project her memories of Snape's bravery and Pettigrew's betrayals.

_I see why you think that Snape would work well in Gryffindor, but why Hufflepuff for Pettigrew instead of Slytherin?_

_I think that in Hufflepuff he may have a chance at making real friends and learning loyalty. He didn't start out bad, it was his never completely fitting in with his friends and his fear that pushed him to the dark side. Maybe if he made different friends he'd have a chance._

_Very well_, the Hat thought before yelling, "Gryffindor!"

Hermione smiled up at McGonagall as she removed the hat before trotting off to the Gryffindor Table. She slipped into a seat next to Lily and across from Sirius.

"Hi, I'm Hermione!" She said cheerfully, glad that she'd fulfilled the only real plan she'd so far had for changing the future.

"I'm Lily."

"Remus."

"Sirius."

Hermione nodded and turned back to the sorting. Soon enough, Peter was a Hufflepuff, and James and Severus were Gryffindors. Severus sat down on the other side of Lily, and James ended up in the only empty seat left; directly across from Snape. Hermione was annoyed to see James already sneering at Snape, but before she could say or do anything she was surprised by someone else.

"You're Eileen Prince's kid, right?" Sirius asked.

Snape immediately started to bristle--it was only with a touch from Lily that he was able to civilly answer. "Yeah, so?"

"My mother hates your mum and you," Sirius said, displaying a complete obliviousness that Hermione gave a mental sigh at and nearly had Snape reaching across the table to punch Sirius. Never knowing how close he'd come to getting his nose smashed in, Sirius' next words saved his butt. "But I can't stand my mum, so I guess that makes you okay in my book. I'm Sirius Black, the newest White Sheep of the Black Family."

Snape ended up shaking Sirius' hand while looking stunned. James still didn't look too happy, Lily looked amused, and Remus seemed withdrawn.

"Why was everyone so surprised when your name was called anyways?" James suddenly asked, looking at Hermione with a trace of dislike. "What are you, famous?"

Hermione was irritated by his tone, but tried to keep her cool, "I guess they didn't know that my mum had any children. I lived with my Grandda until he died this summer, so they never saw me with her."

"Oh, so it's your mum who's famous?" James sneered, his tone of voice only getting worse.

"My mum's a professor here. What's your problem anyway?" Hermione snapped at him.

"You think you're so special, being recognized by everyone, and then you come an try to steal my friends!" He indicated Remus and Sirius, who were looking at him like he had lost it.

Hermione glared at James and noticed that Lily and Snape glared at him too. "I wasn't trying to steal anyone. But if being their friends means that I have to put up with you then I'll find other friends."

"Me too," Lily said, and Snape nodded beside her. Hermione turned to them and stuck up a conversation, ignoring the boys on the other side of the table.

XxXxXxX

Things quickly fell into place after that. Hermione found herself becoming close friend with Lily and Severus. Classes were easy for her, but were almost as easy for Lily and Severus. Hermione enjoyed being friends with people who enjoyed learning as much as she did. Remus would sometimes study with them too,and all four of them got along.

In spite of his hospitality towards Snape, Sirius stood firmly by James in one thing: the opposition of their two groups. James and Hermione had arguments at least daily, often multiple times a day, until, finally, the boys who would become known as the Marauders turned to pranking.

"Finally!" Hermione said, sitting down next to Lily with a stack of notebooks.

"You're glad they turned your hair blue and bronze?" Severus quirked an eyebrow at her, his look clearly stating that she was insane.

"No, I'm that they finally started to use pranks. They don't stand a chance against us with the stuff I have in these books."

Severus picked up one of the notebooks and started to flip through it. "These formulas...the way it melds potions, transfiguration, and charms, it's genius! Did you work these out?"

"No, a distant relative did," Hermione fudged. Fred and George were distant relatives alright. In the distant future they would have been her brothers-in-law.

"These potions will take a good amount of time," Lily said, peering over Severus' shoulder to see what he was looking at. "What are you going to do to get back at them until then?"

Hermione made a face, "Yell at them, pretend to be frustrated, and lull them into a sense of false security. Also give them time to build up their reputations as pranksters so that if we pull pranks on people besides them, they'll be the ones to get blamed.

Severus blinked at Hermione for a moment, "You should have been a Slytherin."

Hermione ignored the comment. "Anyways, the potions don't take too much effort or attention, so I have a couple other ideas."

"What are they?" Lily asked, looking intrigued.

"Well, the first one is a map of Hogwarts where you can see where everyone is. If we want to pull pranks on them without being seen we'll have to be able to get in and out of places without being noticed, and it's not like we have an invisibility cloak or anything." Hermione scowled at the thought of James having the invisibility cloak, but didn't say anything about it. "The other thing is... I've decided to become an animagus. Do you two want to do it too?"

Severus and Lily stared at Hermione for a few moments. Snape spoke first, "You know, when I met you I didn't think you were really the rule breaking sort."

"Well, we are Gryffindors for a reason, and I'll do anything to get that annoying Potter. Plus, I'm bored," Hemione explained. "And it's not like we'd be Animagus overnight. It's a lot of research first."

"Aren't most of the books in the Restricted Section? How do we go and get a pass for them?" Lily asked.

"Mum owns her own copy of all of them, and some that aren't even in the Library. I'll find a way to get them."

"I'm game. I wonder what my form would be?"

"I guess I'm in too," Severus said wearily. Hermione grinned. Yes, Hogwarts this time around would be fun.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: After one crashed laptop with the next chapter nearly complete on it I was temporarily fed up with writing. Add to that a move, the developement of epilepsy and transitioning into working full time while not being able to drive because of said epilepsy, well it was quite a while before I wanted to write again. Now I've got the writing bug in me again, and I decided to work on this before starting the new stories bouncing around my head. To those who read while I fell off the place of the planet, I'm sorry and I will try very hard not to have it happen again.

Severus Snape sat alone in the Gryffindor common room staring into the fire, wondering how so much had changed so quickly in his life. He thought back with some bemusement on his first night at Hogwarts.

_"A hat? We're sorted by a ruddy hat?" He thought as the sorting hat was dropped on his head. "Well hurry up and put me in Slytherin you old rag." He thought sourly as the hat covered his eyes. He tried—and failed—to push thoughts of Lily out of his mind._

_"Slytherin? Are you sure my boy?"_

_"Of course," Snape scoffed mentally, "I know more hexes than any of these other first years."_

_"Ah, an expansive knowledge, wouldn't that make you more fit for Ravenclaw?"_

_"No, I don't know those hexes because I'm smart, I know them for when I'll need to fight!"_

_"Why would you need to fight?"_

_Snape couldn't help the memory pop into his mind of Lily with a black eye and Petunia standing over her with a satisfied smile on her face. _

_"Ah, loyalty to friends, a very Hufflepuff characteristic. And of course your friend there is in Gryffindor, a house full of fighters."_

_"I don't deserve any of those houses! Just put me in Slytherin!"_

_"Deserve?" The hat said, in a tone of voice that could only be interpreted as chilly. "Who told you what you deserve?"_

_Again Snape felt a memory being almost dragged from his mind that he tried to hold onto._

_**"Sniveling brat," A large man said as he struck Severus across the face. "You and your whore mother don't even deserve to live here, but I'm letting you. You don't deserve the clothes on your back, or the food on this table. You will do what I say, now and always. You deserve nothing. Even if you turn out to be a wizard," he spat after he said the word, like it was the dirtiest thing in the world, "You will still be worthless. There's nothing you can do now or ever that will change my mind."**_

_"I see." The hat said , with is voice still chilled. "I'll admit you have a few Slytherin traits, but you have just as many Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor traits. It is my choice, not yours or your fathers, to decide which house you deserve and I have decided GRYFFINDOR!"_

Snape shook his head to clear his mind of the memories when he saw his friend Hermione walking down the stairs from the girls dorm. "What are you doing up so early?" He asked, unable to contain his surliness, even with someone he now considered a good friend.

"Oh, once a month I have tea with Dumbledore."

"Why would you do that?" Snape looked at her oddly. Hermione was usually vehement about any sort of favoritism based off of her family connection.

"Oh, he reminds me of my Grandda, and its nice to talk to him."

"Your Grandda was a grumpy elderly muggle minister who hated keeping the secret of your families magic, you've said so yourself. I can't think of someone more unlike Dumbledore."

Hermione frowned for a moment, "They're not alike really, but somehow spending time with him feels like when I spent time with Grandda. It's hard to explain, but I have to go or I'll be late. I'll see you later."

"Now let's see Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a smile at Hermione as she sat down across from him for tea. He only used the name when she was there with him monthly, as a way to help her slip into the right frame of mind, "Last time you were here you had just finished telling me about your first first year. I've already talked to Flamel, I can't believe I never thought of how dangerous it was for the stone to be in existence with Voldemort in the world. The fact that he didn't try to find it until after his first defeat was a miracle. He and his wife are in a safe place and are brewing up batches of the elixir to get them to a point where they feel ready to stop. I think that they want to finish some studies and a couple of books that they are working on. Now, what was your second year like?"

"Well," Hermione said as she sipped her tea, "I had a pleasant summer break, but Harry had anything but. As a punishment for something they locked all of Harry's things up in the cupboard under the stairs where he used to live and locked him into his bedroom. Bars on the window and food flap on the door. It was literally a prison for him."

Dumbledore looked shocked, "What in the world could a twelve year old boy do that would make his relatives do that!"

Hermione smiled wryly, "Harry himself didn't do anything. When he came home from school he didn't tell his family about the rules against using magic as a way to protect himself from some abuse. He didn't actually use any magic, but if it started to look like his cousin or uncle was going to hit him he'd start saying stupid made up words until the idiots got scared enough to back off. It was working out fine until Dobby showed up."

"Dobby? Is this one of your friends? I don't think you've ever mentioned them before."

"Well, Dobby eventually became a friend, but at this point Harry had never met him before. Dobby was a house elf in a former Deatheater's household. He went into Harry's home to warn him away from coming back to Hogwarts that year because he'd be in danger. Harry loved Hogwarts though, and hated his family, so he was more than willing to come back to a dangerous Hogwarts. He politely told Dobby that he would return to school. Upset and being ignored Dobby went down into the kitchen and started using magic to cause havoc. His aunt and uncle were having a dinner party, so they were upset by the mess that was caused. Then an owl from the ministry arrived, terrifying one of the guests, delivering the message that magic had been cast in the house and that if Harry did it again he could be expelled. Knowing that Harry couldn't do anything to stop them without getting expelled they locked him in his room until Ron and his brothers broke him out of his house after stealing their father's flying car."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, fighting a small smile, "I definitely want to hear more about this flying car you speak of, but I have to ask. Why didn't I do anything about the way Harry was treated when he told me about it?"

Hermione frowned a little, "I'm not exactly sure Harry ever told you exactly what went on. He asked you just about every year if he could stay at Hogwarts, or with the Weasley's, or at Grimauld Drive, but you always insisted that he would be safest with his family because of the blood wards there and that he'd have to spend and least some time there each summer. But just because Harry didn't tell you what happened doesn't mean you weren't to blame," Hermione said with some of the Weasley ire that had rubbed off on her, "You could have checked up on him yourself. There was a squib down the street that was supposed to watch out for Harry, but she didn't really. You left Harry isolated from his own world in a household that was at best negligent and at worst abusive. I know more happened there that Harry never spoke of, and all that pain may have been Voldemort's fault for killing his parents, but you also share a big chunk of the blame."

Setting down her empty tea cup with a bang Hermione stood up and gathered her things, "Until next time, Professor," She said stiffly before she stalked out of the room.

Hermione's feet automatically took her on the path towards the library as she mentally fumed at herself. She had let her emotions overcome her intellect, something she couldn't afford to do because she let her guard down. Breaking out like that at Dumbledore didn't mean that her secret was out, but if she let it happen somewhere else she could ruin the outcome of destiny. She already knew that her being here was interference enough, she didn't want to be the reason that Voldemort's reign of terror was successful.

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't see the person turning the corner and she ran full into them.

"Out of my way, mudblood," the girl sneered at her. It only took Hermione a moment to place the other girl.

"I'm not a mudblood, Trixie." Hermione said with a good imitation of the girls sneer. She wondered fleetingly how Draco Malfoy could look so much like his father but take after a woman that he literally never interacted with. The way they stood, glared, sneered, and talked were nearly identical. Hermione had had a couple of run ins with the girl. She apparently hated Hermione's somewhat celebrity status more than anyone else.

"My _name _is Bellatrix. Friends call me Bella. _Nobody _calls me Trixie. And of course you are a mudblood. Your whore mother had you off of some stupid muggle and she was so ashamed of you that that is why she kept it hidden for all of these years."

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to reign in her temper again, "My father was a wizard and he died fighting ignorant evil gits like you. My mother was heart broken and depressed. She kept the pregnancy hidden because it was too difficult for her to talk about his death at the time. By the time I was born she was starting to get better, but it became difficult to explain how I was born since she had previously hidden it. Looking back on it she made a mistake hiding it, but its too late now, and people need to learn to accept that I am her daughter, but that I am just like anyone else."

"Conceited little snobby mudblood, you are not like anyone else. You are inferior, and will always be inferior." Before Hermione had a moment to react the older girl had drawn her wand and cast a jinx her way. Old battle instincts kicked in, and Hermione had to force herself to step out of the way of the jelly legs jinx instead of throwing up a protego shield that a first year student couldn't know and cast.

_"First year jinx, first year jinx," _Hermione thought to herself furiously before casting the tickling charm against her opponent. Chills ran down Hermione's back as she heard Bellatrix howl in laughter. It was barely an echo of the insane laugh that Bellatrix developed in Azkaban, but it was enough to set her on edge.

"_Flipendo!" _Bellatrix cast at Hermione through the laughter. Hermione stumbled backwards as the spell pushed at her. The tickling charm must have really gotten to Bellatrix, since that was up there on the list of easiest first year charms. Hermione barely stopped to think before yelling "_Furnunculus_!"

The spell hit Bellatrix right in the face just as she was getting her laughter back under control. "You think you're so smart don't you, little Miss McGonagal," Bellatrix sneered. "_Confundus!"_

Hermione felt her brain start to feel sluggish as she scrambled to think of a smell to cast.

"_Confundus!" _Bellatrix yelled again, making Hermione feel even more disoriented. "_Confundus! Confundus!" _The compound casting of the same spell over and over again practically dragged Hermione's brain function down to a halt. Her only thought was that she had to get away from this bitch. Something about that word in relation to this woman stirred something in Hermione's dimmed brain. The kindest woman in the world called this girl that, and then killed her. The woman who wouldn't hurt a fly and loved her children and their friends with an abundance that was overwhelming had her hand forced to kill this woman in front of her.

"You made her kill you," Hermione slurred out, almost sounding drunk. "You bitch." But her mind couldn't seem to land on a spell to use, and after the confusion from the first statement passed Bellatrix was clearly furious at what Hermione called her. She could do nothing as Bellatrix started to gleefully throw out spell after spell.

"_Calvario!" _Hermione watched dispassionately as all of her bushy hair fell out. "_Locomotor Wibbly!" _Hermione's legs turned to jelly and she fell to the floor. She lay there as Bellatrix caused her teeth to grow too long, her knees to be reversed, pimples and boils covered her skin and numerous other hexes and jinxes that she became too confused to even process. Eventually she just shut her eyes and let herself pass out.

Hermione's next impression was of the nasty taste in her mouth she always got after someone cast _Enervate _on her. Forcing her pain filled eyes open a notch she saw a woman in white walking away from the bed muttering to herself. Letting her head drop to one side she saw that she wasn't alone in the hospital wing.

"Wotcher Remus," She said, still disoriented and confused from the repeated use of the confundus charm.

"Hermione?" Remus said, staring at her like she had grown antlers. Well, for all she knew she had. Bellatrix could have cursed her with some. But Hermione felt too weak to lift her hands to check the state of her head. "Did you just say 'wotcher?'"

Hermione had to suppress a giggle. She was in the hospital wing and probably looked horrible, but Remus commented on her choice of words.

"A friend used to say it," She murmured, her thoughts flashing to Remus's pink haired bride to be. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, just a bit under the weather," Remus said, a bit too cheerfully.

Unable to stop herself Hermione responded with understanding, "Oh, full moon's tomorrow, huh?"

Remus turned pale and stared at her with a mixture of fear, loathing, and slight respect. "Your mother told you!"

"What, no, I figured it out ages ago," Hermione murmured. A second later she wondered what was wrong with her. Sure, she had figured it out ages ago, when she was 13. But now she was 11 and wasn't supposed to know things like that. "It's okay though, I still like you. Have you ever thought about getting chew toys?"

"Chew toys?" Remus said incredulously, "You know my darkest secret and you ask me about _chew toys?_"

"I just thought maybe you could chew them instead of hurting yourself. Muggles get them for mean dogs sometimes.

"And now you're calling me a dog?!"

Hermione sighed in frustration, "Dammit Remus, I'm not trying to offend you. I'm not sure what I'm saying right now. I can't think. I like you. You're smart, you're nice, you're the best guy in our year, and don't ever tell Severus I said that because he's one of my best friends. You can tell James though, he's a git. I'm not going to go telling your secret. But you might want to tell your friends, because if I can figure it out just from studying with you sometimes even someone as pigheaded as James Potter will eventually notice." She paused for a second, "I think I was hit with a babbling hex."

"What happened to you anyway? When you came in you looked horrible. Teeth down to your feet, boils, pimples, spongy backwards knees. You look better now, well except for the hair."

"Bellatrix Le-," Hermione stopped herself, "Bitch Black."

"Bellatrix LeBitch Black. I like the nickname. We'll have to tell Sirius, he'll help you take her down. Hell, even James might. No one likes her."

They were silent for a moment before Hermione finally spoke again. "Remus?"

"Yes Hermione?"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

Remus looked at her with a twinkle in his eye. "What hair?"

Hermione let out a groan as her head hit the pillow. She knew the marauders well enough to know what that answer meant. "Bellatrix is going down."


End file.
